دانلود رمان انگلیسی “زمزمه‌های شیطانی”

The massive iron gates of Blackwood Academy loomed before Liz, more like the entrance to a medieval fortress than a school. They were black, naturally, twisted into sharp points and curlicues that looked almost cruel against the grey, overcast sky. Rain was threatening, a light mist already clinging to everything, making the gargoyles perched on the gateposts seem to weep. Liz shifted the weight of her worn duffel bag, the strap digging into her shoulder. It held pretty much everything she owned, a stark contrast to the sleek, expensive luggage being unloaded from the shiny black cars that purred past her. Liz took a deep breath, the damp air thick with the scent of old money and something else…something she couldn’t quite place, a faint, metallic tang that made her stomach clench. This was it. Her ticket out. Her chance at a life beyond the cramped apartment and the endless worries about bills. Blackwood Academy. The name itself sounded like something out of a Gothic novel, and the reality wasn’t far off. She walked through the gates, the gravel crunching under her worn sneakers – another sound that felt out of place amidst the quiet hum of luxury vehicles and the hushed, polite tones of the other students. Blackwood wasn’t just any school. It was the school. The kind of place where last names mattered more than test scores, where future presidents and CEOs were groomed. And then there was Liz, a scholarship kid from the wrong side of the tracks, clutching a crumpled acceptance letter like a winning lottery ticket. The sheer size of the place was overwhelming. Buildings of grey stone, covered in ivy that looked older than Liz herself, rose up on all sides. Towers and turrets pierced the sky, and stained-glass windows glittered even in the dim light. It was beautiful, in a cold, intimidating way. Liz felt a shiver run down her spine, and it wasn’t just from the damp chill. Students milled around, a sea of perfectly tailored uniforms and effortlessly cool hairstyles. They moved in tight-knit groups, laughing and talking, their voices echoing off the stone walls. Liz felt a pang of loneliness, a familiar ache that had been her constant companion for as long as she could remember. She was used to being on the outside, looking in. Trying to appear confident, she walked towards the largest building, which she assumed was the main hall. Her sneakers squeaked on the polished stone floors, the sound echoing embarrassingly loudly in the cavernous space. She clutched her bag tighter, feeling a blush creep up her neck.